Big Blue Marble Bookstore Revisited

Folks have been telling me they had a great time in Philadelphia last Sunday, and I agree. Thank you to everyone who showed up. My camera got passed around a bit, but near the end of the event it stopped recording folks who came when we had standing room only. 

We began with a discussion of Akan day names, a couple of demonstrations using volunteers from the audience (how to open a coconut, how to peel a plantain and make

plantain strips/chips). 

Later, a volunteer agreed to try his hand at rolling out dough and making twisted cookies (atwemo,  atsomo).

Along the way folks sampled both the chips and the atwemo, along with hibiscus iced tea (bissap, zobo, sobolo) and ginger beer. We also talked about Ghana's answer to couscous (gari), and sampled 2 versions of a Ghanaian one-pot called gari foto (classic, with corned beef) and contemporary (vegetarian). We tasted fresh coconut, and I shared some failed "coconut cakes" that were made with too little coconut. Along the way, we discussed stories behind the cookbook, and the challenge to get it published. It was wonderful to have family support from the Philadelphia area (adopted nephews Sam and Ernest and my sister-in-law Phyllis ("Sister Amma"). Neighbors and colleagues, African friends, and other local people helped swell the crowd. As noted elsewhere, appreciation of West African cuisine is on the rise in the U.S.!

Thank you to everyone who pitched in to help with plating the food, serving, assigning day names, cleanup, etc. My sincere apologies that the bookstore did not have not enough books to go around. Remember, they are available at a discount at Amazon. Here are a few more photos:

Next event? At the International Association of Culinary Professionals conference in Los Angeles in early April. Stay tuned for more details as they become available.

Recipe #97: Attiéké and Sauce Aubergine

All semester (August through December) I've been blessed by the generosity of others, especially African/Africanist friends and colleagues. This time of year it seems appropriate to share some of my gratitude.

Today, I want to publicly say "thank you" to Inza Bamba for his recent Thanksgiving gift--a treasure "more precious than gold." He made it clear that the package of tightly packed granules, direct from Côte d'Ivoire, was for me. He knew how special it would be to taste "fresh" attiéké  as opposed to "dried," boxed attiéké  (like that I picked up in Washington DC last month). Attiéké is a bit like gari, but it is steamed cassava granules, and is more like couscous than gari.

I know that he often prepares attiéké with "sauce aubergine," (eggplant stew) and is partial to lamb, so I decided to prepare the two together a few days ago, Ghana-style. 

Recipe #96: Sauce Aubergine with Lamb and Attiéké (Ghana-style)

• I took a medium purple eggplant (sorry, no garden eggs around here), peeled and chopped it, added water to cover and put it on the stove to boil for a few minutes, while I
•  Added a couple pounds of lamb chunks (you can later cut the meat off  the shanks if you like), bone in, and added some seasoning (a couple of chopped onions, a few minced garlic cubes, part of a seeded habanero pepper, some sea salt, and a good tablespoon of freshly grated ginger, plus a little dried ground red pepper for good measure) to it and stirred, well and let it steam in a covered soup pot with a little water.
• Next, I blended (in an electric blender) a couple of fresh tomatoes and several leftover canned ones I had in the refrigerator (Perhaps I strained out the seeds as I added the blended tomatoes, but that's just picky me), then I
• removed the softened eggplant with a slotted spoon and added it to the blender, along with a little water (maybe half a cup) to help blend it up. There's no need to blend the eggplant if you like it chunky, but I got into the habit of always blending it since my children preferred the sauce creamy.
• I added the eggplant to the soup pan with the tomatoes, lamb, etc., along with some more water (a couple of cups), and let the mixture simmer until the meat was soft (Actually, I left it simmer on the stove for around 45 minutes, then cooled it and put it in the refrigerator to finish and serve the next day).
• The day we ate it, I reheated it and let it simmer for about half an hour, adjusted the seasonings (needed more salt, and I added a heaping tablespoon of tomato paste).
• While it was finishing, in a separate bowl I prepared some fresh okra (cut off both ends, and sliced it into rounds), cooked it in the microwave with a little water for about 10 minutes (Be careful to use a large bowl because the okra will bubble up as it cooks). I would have cooked the okra right in the stew, but we were having a guest for dinner, and I was not sure if he liked okra.
• While the soup was simmering, I measured out a cup of the dry attiéké and set it aside. I also measured out a cup of the "fresh" attiéké . I poured an equal amount of water into a small sauce pan (a good cup) for the dried attiéké . I made a "couscousiere" in a small saucepan by putting a strainer in it and lining it with a cheesecloth.
• Shortly before we were ready to eat, I added a cup of water to the fresh attiéké (big mistake), then tried to drain out the obviously excess water, and put the mixture into the couscousiere to steam for 15 or 20 minutes (I think it needed no extra water, and it should have simply been steamed). It became a glutinous mass (kind of like a gooey eba), and next time I'll totally skip adding any water. The flavor was good, however. Sorry to have messed up, Inza. I'll prepare some more tomorrow night for our "African cafe" potluck with my students, and report back.
• Shortly before I eating, I boiled the cup of water and poured the dry
  attiéké into it (the same way one normally prepares dried couscous in the U.S., letting it sit, covered, for a few minutes until all the water was absorbed, then fluffed it up with a fork. Very quick, very easy, very tasty (and no gluten, too).
• The meal was well received, and needed no extra accompaniment, though I did serve a fruit dessert.

Celebrate with Cassava Cookies (Gari "biscuits")

Spring is coming! Last December I mentioned baking some classic cookies made from the West African cassava meal called "gari." It's now March, and I'm finally sharing the recipe--just in time for spring celebrations, or Easter,  or graduations, or a special teatime snack.

These crispy cookies are simple to make, and have an uncluttered, fresh, pure taste. The coconut and gari deliver a crunchy texture with a mild, pleasing flavor. Incidentally, I started to make them yesterday, cracking open a fresh coconut only to find it was spoiled, so had to return to the store today for some frozen unsweetened grated coconut. Apart from the time saved from not having to do all the work of opening and grating the coconut myself, the only difference was that the frozen one was more tightly packed, so I only needed about two/thirds of a cup of it (instead of about 3/4 cup) to make up my 2 ounces. 

Also, I used evaporated milk (as one would likely do in Ghana), and since I didn't have any margarine, substituted unsalted butter. For a vegan version, use margarine and substitute soy or almond milk.

Gari Biscuits (Cookies) 

Yield: 2 dozen

Ingredients:

1/2 cup fine sifted Ghana-style gari

1 teaspoon water

1/2 cup plus 1-2 tablespoons sifted unbleached wheat flour

1/3 cup sugar (or less, to taste)

1 teaspoon baking power

1/4 teaspoon salt

2 oz or about 3/4 cup medium freshly grated (or about 2/3 cup defrosted frozen  unsweetened coconut)

1 oz (2 Tablespoons) margarine (or butter)

2-3 Tablespoons of evaporated milk (or regular, soy, or almond milk)

Set the oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit  (191 degrees Celsius, or 5 gas mark) to preheat.

Grease or oil a baking sheet.

1. If using fresh coconut,  crack open, prepare and grate the white meat (see blog posting). Set aside.
2. In a bowl, sprinkle a teaspoon of water over the gari, and mix it in well with your fingers  (see picture on right).
3. Add the remaining dry ingredients (flour, sugar, salt, baking powder) to the bowl, along with the coconut.
4. Using your fingers or knives, cut the margarine (or butter) into the mixture until it resembles cornmeal.

5. Stir in 2 Tablespoons of milk. If the mixture seems too dry to stick together, add up to one more tablespoon (a teaspoon at a time) until the batter will form small patties.
6. I made the cookies 3 different ways, :

first, I hand-formed 8 of them into small patties; secondly, I patted some of the dough onto a lightly floured board and cut 8 small circles using a small jar; thirdly, I formed 8 small balls, set them on the cookie sheet, and pressed them with a fork as one would for peanut butter cookies--first one way, then once again at right angles to the first)

Finally, I baked them in the preheated oven for about 12-15 minutes, until they turned very lightly golden. The tops are whiter, the bottoms browned. The longer you cook them, the crisper they become, which is the way we like them.


These are delicious, and one cannot help but reflect on the reality that if people in Ghana made them more often, they could cut their use of imported wheat flour basically in half. Plus they make use of locally available coconuts, rather than expensive imported flavorings.

Variations could include sprinkling the biscuits/cookies with coconut or gari, or adding other flavorings/spices (vanilla, lemon, etc.).
I'm sure these would keep well in a covered container or in the freezer, but they never last long enough at my house to try that. These cookies are festive for any occasion year round.